


Squint

by dandeliononfire



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: College AU, Discovered crushes, F/M, Katniss with glasses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 14:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19007335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandeliononfire/pseuds/dandeliononfire
Summary: Summary: When Katniss has a problem with her contact lenses and can’t read her professor’s presentation slides, a helpful classmate not only agrees to let her copy his notes, but insists on helping her navigate home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally- eons ago- supposed to be a two-part that ended up with a third part. At some point I posted a part four, but never got to five and part four really left things... a little kattywompus, and I deleted that because people were hounding me to finish it. So, as it stands, this is a finished arc as three chapters.
> 
> THAT BEING SAID, while I am in no way suggesting I'll update this, I do have portions of the fifth chapter roughed-out in my Scrivner scraps folder, so if you like this universe, you can SUBSCRIBE to it and then LEAVE A COMMENT (or message me on Tumblr @dandeliononfire) and maybe I'll get to it when I'm done with Geometry and A Pasty White Raisin Christmas. (But, seriously no promises.)

_Panem University, Liberal Arts Building, 2nd floor ladies’ restroom._

“What the- Johanna!”

Katniss’ hands darted into the sink, but it was too late. Her contact lenses disappeared down the drain in a swirl of cold, quad shot, skinny, extra foam mocha.

She let out a curse.

“What’d you do that for! Didn’t you see them sitting there?”

They had both just come out of their humanities class. Johanna had caught Katniss’ open contacts case with the edge of her to-go cup while dumping the unwanted remainder out.

Whatever expression Johanna gave, Katniss’ uncorrected vision was too blurry for her to see it. Her tone, however, was unapologetic.

“You’re the one who decided to cleanse them them in a public bathroom. Which is completely gross and unhygienic to begin with.”

Katniss groaned in frustration. She didn’t have her spare glasses, and not only did she have to make it back to her apartment, her next class was always Power Point heavy.

“Oops, no time to chat, Kat,” her friend started to leave. “I’m going to be late for class.”

Katniss caught her arm and yanked her close enough to see her face clearly.

“You are coming with me to my class,” she said through grit teeth. “And you’re going to take excellent notes for me!”

Katniss could intimidate just about anyone. Except Johanna, who was too crazy to scare.

“’Fraid not. I’ve got a quiz in mine.” She grinned wickedly, as though trashing Katniss’ contacts had been part of some grand master plan, “Guess you’ll just have to ask that guy you sit next to for help. Why don’t you tell him you have a huge crush on him while you’re at it.”

Katniss’ cheeks burned.

“Think of this as serendipity,” she said smugly. “You can thank me later.”

Johanna jerked her arm free and left before Katniss could catch her again.

Katniss grumbled, but had no other option except to grab her book bag and make the out-of-focus journey to her next class. Thankfully, it was only three doors down. And thankfully, it was also her last class of the day.

The room was already starting to fill up. She recognized the blond hair and square shoulders of Peeta, her usual desk neighbor, and used his blond hair as a beacon to navigate to her chair.

He already had his laptop open when she got there and was powering it up to take notes.

“Hey,” he said. Even though she couldn’t see, it sounded like he was smiling.

“Yeah, hey.”

She swallowed, hesitated, then added, “I need your help.”

“Sure. Anything.” He seemed pleased, but then his tone grew concerned. “Katniss, are you sick? You look like you’re burning up.”

His hand reached out and pressed against her forehead. The flush that had been on her cheeks from Johanna’s teasing only burned hotter, as much from the contact as the fact that he’d noticed the blush to begin with.

She squinted. She could just make out his frown as he pulled his hand back abruptly.

He looked hurt about something, but with her vision so poor, Katniss couldn’t be sure. It didn’t help that he was suddenly staring anywhere but at her.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

“For what?” She was sorry he’d pulled his hand away, but she couldn’t think of what he had to be apologetic for.

He fixed on her again, “Well, you look mad at me for asking.”

She cursed again.

“Sorry. Not mad. Not at you, anyway.” She sighed and started setting up her laptop. “My friend Johanna just trashed my contacts. That was my  _I’m-trying-to-see-you face_.”

He chuckled, “Well, if I’d known earlier that’s all it took…”

“What?”

She squinted at him again, trying to figure out the joke but he turned back to his computer.

“I said, ‘bummer,’” was the only response he eventually supplied, as though he’d had to think on it. He looked back. “How’d she manage that?”

“Accident,” Katniss growled. “Or so she says.”

He chuckled again.

“What’s so funny,” she demanded sharply, for being laughed at a second time.

He grinned, and the harder she squinted at him the more amused he grew.

“Your expression,” he laughed. “And the way you actually just growled, like it was vibrating through you from your toes up to your mouth. It was almost… almost…”

He shook his head as if having a private joke.

“Yeah, I’ll be safe and stick with primal.”

Katniss’ cheeks reddened again. She had an idea of what she’d  _like_  for him to have been thinking, but it was clear to her he’d only been having a good laugh at her expense.

So she gave him the best glare she could muster.

His smile fell away immediately and he cleared his throat before looking back to his laptop.

A moment later, the blurry form of their professor arrived and began setting up his presentation. Katniss had to swallow her pride.

“Could I have your notes for the slides today? I won’t be able to read them.”

“You bet,” he said, without looking up.

She leaned in close to her own screen, trying to see well enough to open her notes file. She’d at least type what she could hear.

Five minutes into the lecture, though, Peeta stopped her when he reached out and rested his hand on the backs of hers with a ghost touch.

She squinted at him in silent question.

When he leaned over, his breath was warm against her neck and made her shiver.

“You’re typing gibberish,” he whispered into her ear. His nose grazed her hair. “Just relax. I have this for both of us.”

Katniss shivered again, but nodded. To make sure she obeyed, he gently pushed her hands away from the keyboard and quietly pulled her screen closed.

She didn’t hear a word the professor said after that.

For the next forty minutes the  _only_  thing she was taking mental notes on was Peeta, and trying to formulate how to ask him to coffee or a study date without discombobulating into a stuttering word salad.

When the bell finally went off in the hall, a predictable swarm of activity rose around them. Katniss watched the fuzzy forms of their classmates gather up their belongings and begin filing out. She had planned to wait before leaving herself until most of them were gone so there’d be fewer navigation obstacles for her vision.

That, and she’d also hoped Peeta would say something to her.

But after the last of their classmates left and they were alone, he was still quietly staring at his screen, intent on making his usual post-class edits.

She managed not to sigh in disappointment as she shoved her laptop into her bag and started to push up from the desk.

It was then that Peeta’s hand caught her wrist. The touch was light, but held her in place like it was iron.

“What’s your email?”

She gave the address, after an initial stutter, and he withdrew his hand to type it in.

Katniss could think of nothing else to do than stare at her wrist.

“Notes sent,” Peeta said, leaning back in his chair and clearly pleased. He closed his laptop with a confident  _click_.

“Thanks,” she grunted, discontent.

“What’s wrong?”

What should have been wrong was how uncomfortable walking home without her glasses was going to be. But what was  _really_  wrong was that all she could think of was the loss of contact between his fingers and her wrist.

And how close his lips had been to her skin when he’d whispered to her.

How he’d closed her laptop, imposed his will on her hands and, well, on her, without asking permission.

“Katniss?”

She looked up from her wrist to his face, but didn’t bother to squint. Instead, she exhaled slowly, blinking herself out of the fog.

“You zoned out.”

“It was your hand,” she said before she realized.

Though blurry, she could see his frown.

“Oh,” he sighed heavily. “Sorry, Katniss. I didn’t mean to… To offend you.”

She looked away and mumbled, “You didn’t,” before getting up and and pulling the strap of her book bag over her shoulder. She gave him a glum smile.

“Thanks for taking notes, Peeta. I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

She managed to sidle out of the row without tripping, and  _almost_  made it to the door with her dignity intact.

But the toe of her shoe smacked against a metal waste bin that was partially obscured by a front row desk.

“Katniss, wait.”

She turned. Peeta slipped his backpack over his shoulders and was at her side quickly.

He rubbed the back of his neck for a second and then asked, “How are you getting home?”

“I’m only about half mile away. I can walk it, I don’t need a ride.”

“Well that’s good, ‘cause I don’t have a car.”

“Oh.”

“I do have two good eyes though.” Even though his face was blurry, she could tell from his voice he was smiling. “I could be your body guard.”

He toed at the waste basket she’d accidentally kicked, “You know, just in case any trash cans leap out and try to attack you along the way, or a squirrel darts out across your path.”

“You really don’t need to.”

Though, she really  _wanted_  him to.

“You don’t want me to?” Even without her glasses, she could tell he looked disappointed.

Actually, she really  _needed_  him to.

“No, it’s fine.”

She gave him a smile and got herself to the door. It wasn’t until she’d stepped out into the hall that she realized he wasn’t behind her. She leaned back into the room.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I thought you said no.”

She laughed.

“I said, ‘No, it’s fine.’ As in, it’s fine if you walk me home, Peeta.”

“Oh!” His teeth were white enough to highlight his grin despite her poor vision.

In an instant he was through the door and walking with her down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

Peeta was very attentive to blurry-visioned Katniss, needlessly opening every door, faithfully warning where chucks of concrete had gone missing from the squares of sidewalk, and even pointing out dog piles she’d be in no danger of stepping on even if she were blind.

It was attentive the point it made Katniss feel helpless, which grated on her nerves.

Abruptly, she decided she needed some independence.

The last building on the edge of campus had a water fountain right inside the door. It was warm enough she could legitimately need a sip to drink.

She veered off the main sidewalk without saying anything.

“Hey,” Peeta said, not realizing she’d ditched him until he’d taken several steps.

She didn’t stop, but said behind her, “I’m just going to get a drink of water. I’ll be right back.”

“Wait-”

“I’m fine!”

She didn’t slow, but stalked for the double doors, savoring with each quick step closer the idea of slamming her hands into the push bar as an outlet for her irritation.

Only, when the moment came, the door didn’t open.

She let out a cry as her face collided with the glass and her wrists jammed.

Peeta was at her shoulder in an instant, his concern even more irritating than his previous overbearing watchfulness.

“Are you okay?”

He scrunched his face in sympathetic pain.

“Ow, that looks like it hurt.”

He passed his thumb over the corner of her forehead, just over her hairline, several times. The touch both heightened and soothed the pain.

“What did I do,” she asked, putting her own hand there once he finally removed his.

“Tiny little cut. It’ll probably bruise up a bit too, at the rate you plowed into it.”

She growled at the hint of laughter in his voice.

“You could have waited for me,” he said. “I’d have gotten the door.”

She crossed her arms, “I’m without my contact lenses. I’m not an infant.”

“So calling me Papa Peeta is out, huh?” He flashed her a blatantly infuriating grin and then pushed against the other door with his hip. There was a small click as it slowly swung open behind him.

He flashed wide eyes and a gaped mouth, “Katniss, oh my gosh, the door without the  _‘use other door sign’_  opens! It’s a miracle!” He pointed to a piece of paper that had been taped to the inside of the door. He clucked sympathetically and shook his head, “That must really suck, not having been able to read the warning.”

Her glare wasn’t a result of her uncorrected vision.

He held the door wide open for her, his arm extended high enough for her to slip under it.

She scowled, “No.”

“Didn’t you want water?” he asked too sweetly, voice shaking to contain laughter.

“Unless there’s enough to drown you in, not now, no.”

“So even though you were thirsty,  _now_  you won’t drink because I opened the door for you?”

“I  _wasn’t_  thirsty, and  _now_  I won’t drink because you’re making fun of me.”

He let go of the door and scratched his head.

“If you weren’t thirsty to begin with, why did you say you were going to get a drink?”

“I was trying to get away before you descended into the lowest pits of chivalry and found a puddle or lake or ocean or something to cover with your jacket just so I wouldn’t get my dainty little feet wet.”

He laughed, a deep belly laugh.

“But I’m not wearing a jacket.”

She rolled her eyes, “At the rate you’re babying me, you’d have figured something out, I’m sure.”

“My shirt might work.”

He looked down at his t-shirt and made a pretend move to pull it up and over his head.

“Stop!” she yelled, putting her palm out and looking away. Blurry or not, she didn’t need to see his torso. She already knew from the days he came to class in his tight-fitting gym clothes that he was ripped. Him without his shirt would only make her brain stop working to the point he’d have to lead her home by the arm.

Or carry her.

She snorted despite feeling bashful. She made a show of peeking his way with one eye open to make sure he was decent. He’d only actually pulled his shirt up a few inches, so she dropped her hand and opened the other eye.

“Thank God,” she said.

“‘Infant.’ ‘Babying.’” He let go of his shirt hem and leaned close enough for her to see his dimples as he grinned and winked, “Maybe calling me Papa Peeta  _isn’t_  out, after all.”

“Gross,” she laughed, and then walked back towards the main sidewalk.

He laughed too, and fell quickly into stride beside her.

She rubbed at the cut on her temple. It didn’t feel too bad, but it made her wonder if ‘Papa Peeta’s’ powers including kissing and making better.

“Oh for peace sake,” she cried at herself.

Peeta looked at her for explanation but she waved him off. She wasn’t about to share  _that_  thought with him.

It only took a few minutes to cross off campus and into the residential district beyond.

As they walked under the shade of big oak trees and past neat rows of houses with quiet yards, Peeta remained attentive for hazards, but was more selective on which obstacles he bothered to point out.

But mostly, he was talkative. Very talkative, Katniss thought.

He talked to her about class. Asked about her other classes. Compared notes on professors they’d both happened to have had. Got her opinion on the cafeteria food, and on the pizza joint across the river, and the greasy spoon diner just on the other side of campus. He told her he lived in the dorms. Had brothers. His family owned a bakery. Yes, he knew how to frost a cake, and he told her he could make cheese buns that would make her mouth water and leave her begging for more.

Suddenly, he tugged on her shirt sleeve and stopped walking.

“Ow!”

When Katniss turned around, he was pulling his lids away from his cornea and rotating his eye around wildly.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s something in my eye.”

He let go of his lids and blinked rapidly.

“Would you see if you can see anything?”

Katniss frowned. “I can’t see, remember? I’d have to basically be in your eye to see anything small. We’re over half way to my place. Just hold on and you can flush it with some contact solution when we get there.”

He growled in frustration. “Not that I don’t want to take up on the invitation to enter casa Katniss, because I’d love nothing more than to… to hang out with you. But this is urgent. I’m dying here. Can’t you still see up close?” His fingers intermittently pulled his lids around at different angles.

She sighed. She’d have to be really close to see any small detail. To see to open her files, she’d had to get close enough to her computer screen that she was almost kissing it. She didn’t want to kiss Peeta.

Or, she did, but she’d like it to be mutual and not the awkward mechanical result of her having to practically stick her nose into his eye.

She blew a breath out her nose and then eased her bag off her shoulder.

“Fine. Come here.”

He stepped up to her, holding his eye open so wide it looked ridiculous.

She laughed.

“Glad you find this funny,” he grumbled.

“It’s hard not to laugh with that blue eye of yours looking like it might pop out and roll away on the sidewalk. So I laugh or you suffer. Your choice.” A smile twitched her lips.

“Whatever, just look.”

Katniss had to take two more steps and still couldn’t see detail well.

She hesitated.

“I need to lean in, is that okay?”

He grunted in response.

She leaned in until her nose was close enough to his cheek she knew he had to be feeling the puffs of her breathing. He seemed to be holding his breath. She assumed he didn’t want to breath in her germs and dirty air.

She squinted.

His eye was a brilliant blue with lines of light gray, against a field of perfect white. That close, even without her glasses, she could make out every ridge and wave of his iris. A consequence of her breathing out was that a puff of air entered his eye and his lids jerked and tried to shut against the restraint of his fingers.

She remembered she was looking for a foreign object, and looked carefully around the curve of the eye at the bottom and top, and at the wet line where the bright pink of his lids’ interiors met the eye.

“See anything there?” His breath tickled her ear, and this close to it he’d whispered to be polite rather than blow out her ear drum.

“Not a thing.”

But she was aware of plenty. Like the fact that even above the engulfing smell of freshly mowed grass from the yard they’d stopped in front of, she could smell his shampoo. And that his lips would be close to touching hers if either of them leaned in the slightest to their respect right. That she could feel as well as hear the rhythm of his breathing now coming out his nose, and the tickling as it fluttered strands of her hair.

He let go of his lids and blinked, but didn’t move away. Instead, gentle fingers tucked the disturbed strands behind her ear, making her inhale and hold her breath.

“Are you sure,” he asked slowly. She could hear him swallow. He wasn’t stepping away.

She leaned back and peered at his face.

Yes, there it was. A shit-eating grin spreading on that face of his. It brought out his dimples.

He didn’t  _look_  like he was having trouble with his eye.

She started to take a step back, but his hands caught gently around her arms. The hold was light enough not to hold her in place, but a clear invitation to stay.

“I have a confession to make,” he said. His breath was in her face, warm in the already warm afternoon.

“That you don’t have something in your eye,” she whispered nervously, her chest feeling like it was quivering.

“Oh, I have something in my eye,” he said.

She watched as that eye looked down to her lips and hovered. Her tongue darting out over her lower one was involuntary. She watched his eyelashes as he blinked slowly before looking back up.

“I’ve had something in my eye all semester, and all last semester too.”

She swallowed, and he shifted his entire body so his face was a millimeter closer. His eyes dipped down to her lips and back for a second time. She didn’t know what he was talking about, but even if she might otherwise have, his proximity made thought almost impossible.

“Astronomy, last year. I sat behind you and your boyfriend the entire semester. It was torture, watching him take every opportunity to lean over and whisper into your ear. Watching as his nose would brush past your loose hair. I lied both times I said I’d lost my notes, just so I’d have an excuse to ask to borrow yours.”

Astronomy. Last fall. She didn’t remember. How was that possible? She’d been inescapably aware of him since the first day of class this semester, when she’d claimed the seat next to him. Just like she was inescapably aware of him standing in front of her right now.

How could she not have noticed him last semester at all?

“You don’t even remember, do you? Didn’t even notice me.”

He leaned back slightly, disappointed. His hands let go of her and slapped against his sides. She rubbed her arms where he’d been touching her, trying not to lose the heat that had built there.

“I see it in your eyes, that you’re trying to remember and you can’t.”

He sighed, the exhale of it making her skin rise. She closed her eyes against the sensation, enjoying it too much to realize he had taken another step back.

When her eyes fluttered open, he was beyond arms’ reach and looked hurt and embarrassed.

“Well,” he looked down at the sidewalk. “It would be unfair of me not to tell you just so I’d have an excuse to walk you around the block, so,” he toed the pavement and then held his arm out towards the yard, “this is actually your house, I think.”

She looked over, screwing her eyes into a very tight squint. Yes, it was. She had been so engrossed in their walking smalltalk she’d not noticed. That mowed grass smell had been her doing, the afternoon before. She still had the grass-stained jeans in the washing machine waiting for detergent and a soak.

“I’ll see you Monday, I guess,” he said and started to walk away. He hiked his backpack further up on his shoulders and quickened his pace.

Her stomach pitched.

“Wait, Peeta!”

He turned, but kept walking backwards. It made her eyes hurt to strain so hard to see him. She couldn’t make out any detail about him except for colors and that his hands were gripping the backpack straps.

“Come back.”

He stopped.

“Please come back here,” she said, but then walked over to him because she didn’t want to risk him refusing.

“How did you know this is my house?”

He shrugged.

“It says Everdeen next to the door. And Johanna’s given me your address before.” He looked over her shoulder to avoid looking at her. “And your number, too, because she gave me credit for having more courage than I do.”

“Johanna?”

She didn’t understand.

“How do you know Johanna?”

Peeta faced her straight on and frowned, “Katniss, she was in that Astronomy class with us. She sat on the other side of you for heaven’s sake. She and I talked before class  _every day_ , with you right there almost in the middle of us. She teased me and tried to embarrass me constantly.” He looked down and scuffed his shoe against the concrete again.

“I thought you were either just too polite to acknowledge it, or felt bad for me. She tells me that guy wasn’t your boyfriend, even though it looked like it to me. And I thought…” he laughed in self-loathing. “And I thought you’d sat next to me this semester intentionally. But clearly, that’s not the case, which means I’ve made a big miscalculation. Because if you can’t remember how merciless she was to me, how obvious it was she could see I liked you, can’t remember hearing my voice right on top of you three days a week for three months, can’t even remember me, and sitting next to me was a coincidence, then pretty much every assumption I’ve made about your and my interactions this semester have been off.”

“Gale was never my boyfriend,” she said defensively. Well, she might have had the odd thought of attraction where he was concerned, and she couldn’t deny he had asked her out several times. But in the end, he was always going to be more of a big lug than boyfriend material to her.

“Well,” Peeta cocked his head, disbelieving, “whatever you say, Katniss. You sure seemed to like him. But what does it matter? It’s fine if you don’t like me. It’s not your fault if I fell prey to coincidence, my own wishful thinking, and Johanna’s encouragement.”

She could definitely imagine Johanna encouraging him. Especially since she’d been talking to her all semester about the adorable, sweet, and incredibly attractive blond guy she sits next to three afternoons a week.

Could Johanna have trashed her contacts intentionally? Seen the opportunity to make Katniss ask Peeta for help?

He checked his watch, “I should go.”

“Peeta, wait.”

Her heart was pounding. She didn’t want him to leave. Absolutely didn’t want him mad at her.

“What, Katniss,” he demanded.

“Do you really like me?” She fisted her hands together and pulled them tight against her belly.

He let go his grip on the backpack straps and slapped his thighs again, frustrated.

“After everything I just said… You’re kidding, right?”

She shook her head. She definitely wasn’t kidding.

“Yes, Katniss,” he said, voice full of humiliation and sarcasm. “Yes, of course I do. It’s why I practically hang on every word you say to me before and after class. It’s why I pretend to miss things our professor says so I can lean over to ask you and smell your hair and hope that you’ll actually lean back to answer so I can feel your breath on my ear. It’s why I ask you every Friday what your weekend plans are, in case they involving going someplace I could conveniently show up in a way that wouldn’t seem creepy. You have absolutely no clue, do you?”

She shrugged, stunned, “Apparently not.”

He gave a derisive snort and turned to walk away.

“Great. Thanks. Goodbye Katniss.”

“You didn’t ask today, though,” she said quickly, too loud.

“I didn’t ask what,” he turned.

She wrung her hands.

“Didn’t ask what I was doing this weekend.”

With squinting, she could just make out his brows knitting together, along with the lifting of his scowl into something more like an uncertain frown.

“Do you want me to ask you what you’re doing this weekend?”

She pulled her hands apart and rubbed the sweat that had slicked her palms off onto her jeans.

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “Yeah, Peeta, I’d like you to ask.”

He hesitated. A long time. Long enough that she became aware how much her head ached from the last hour of having uncorrected vision. And straining to try and read his eyes was making the ache worse.

She couldn’t take it, even her bladder was complaining from the amount of nervous energy flowing through her.

“I was thinking of going out for pizza and beer tonight with this guy I know. And then asking if he wants to crash on the couch a watch a movie, since it’s not a school night.”

“Pretty boring, I guess, huh,” she deflated when he didn’t do anything except watch her with serious eyes.

He said carefully, “It depends.“

“On what?”

“On two things,” he forced air out through his nose. “Who the guy is, first off.”

“And the other,” she asked with embarrassing speed.

He watched her for sometime more, searching. Katniss’ eyes dropped and for a moment she stared at the blurry image of her shoes before looking back up. Whatever was in her face seemed end his hesitation. An edge of a smile twitched the corner of his lips.

“Second is whether there’s going to be anchovies on that pizza.”

He shuffled forward an inch and lifted his hands up, ready to place them back on her arms. But he left them hovering in the air, waiting.

“Because anchovies are disgusting, frankly. And having pizza and beer with that guy from Astronomy class would be even more disgusting. At least, I’d think so.”

“Yes, I’m sure you wouldn’t enjoy that,” she agreed.

”I really wouldn’t,” he grinned.

His hands closed the gap, but stopped at a hesitant, ghosting touch that made Katniss shiver and smile shyly.

“And curling up with him on the couch? Especially with anchovy breath?” He smiled and made a show of shuddering, “That sounds absolutely  _deplorable_.”

She laughed.

“I don’t recall saying anything about  _curling_  up on that couch, Peeta.”

“’M not too sure,” he said, with a mocking doubt. “I think maybe you might’ve. And it might not be so bad… If it isn’t with him, that is,” he offered.

Without squinting she could see he looked hopeful.

She bit down on her lip again.

“Who did you have in mind?” She added quickly, “And if you say Papa Peeta, I’ll-”

“Papa Peeta!” he interrupted, grinning.

“Stop it,” she laughed again.

“Or what?”

“Or… Or I’ll order extra anchovy.”


	3. Chapter 3

Katniss had to lift the key chain to her nose just to make out which was the house key, but she found it and managed to slip it into the lock. Peeta came in behind her and pushed the door shut.

“I have to find my glasses.” Her eyes were too strained to feel comfortable putting new contacts in. It had been over an hour and a half since Johanna had dumped hers, perhaps intentionally, down the sink. She’d been forced to ask Peeta, the boy who sat next to her in her last class, to take notes for her and she’d accepted his offer to escort her home.

And somehow, between the classroom and her front gate, she’d ended up promising him pizza.

She let her bag slip off her shoulder onto the couch and walked back into the bedroom. She rented the house house, but her friend Johanna lived there as well and helped with the rent, though she wasn’t home yet. Katniss realized she probably should have mentioned that fact to Peeta, since she’d already invited him to come back after they had dinner to watch a movie.

She pulled out her phone and started texting her.

“I thought you were looking for your glasses.”

Peeta was standing in the doorway. He came over and took the phone from her, letting his hands graze along hers as she found herself surrendering it for no other reason than because he wanted to take it.

“You’re going to ruin your eyes. Why don’t you tell me what you want to type and I’ll do it for you while you look.” He sounded cheerful, and then looked down at the phone and huffed out a laugh.

“To Johanna. You trashed my contacts on purpose, didn’t you?” He looked up to smile, and then back down. “Sent.”

Katniss bit her lip. At least she hadn’t written the rest of the message for him to read. They stared at each other for a few seconds without moving, but then her phone dinged.

“Did you take advantage of him?”

Peeta looked back up after reading it to her, eyebrows high and fighting a smile.

Ding.

He continued to be her reader.

“I meant, did you take advantage of it? Autocorrect fail, of course. You don’t have it in you to take advantage of anyone, much less poor Peeta who you swoon over every MWF.”

Katniss made a swipe for the phone, but Peeta was too fast.

“Give me that!”

Peeta was laughing, and easily avoiding her grabs for the phone while still reading it.

Ding.

“Oh my, Johanna has a very colorful text vocabulary,” he teased.

Katniss made a renewed lunge, but he was both stronger and slightly taller and was able to curl his arm around and pin her back against his side while he kept reading.

Warm breath ticked her ear as he whispered into it, “Is it really true that you’ve thought about-”

“No. Whatever it is she’s said, it’s all her. She teases me. It’s what she does. Don’t say it, whatever it is.”

“I don’t know, Katniss Everdeen. It was pretty provocative. I think I might need to know.” His other arm came around her and he turned so that her back was to his chest. His voice lowered and his nose buried itself deep enough into her hair that it pressed into her ear. “It’s a pretty liberated girl who’d, how’d Johanna put it, consider making cookies for a guy she’s sweet on.”

He chuckled and let her go.

“Sorry,” he said twice, and then handed over the phone. “All she said was she wasn’t going to be home tonight. I made the other stuff up.”

Katniss drew the phone close to verify, and then scowled. In the struggle, some of her hair had come out of her braid and she tucked it behind her ear.

“Out,” she said, pointing to the living room. “Not funny.”

“A little funny,” he said, grinning, but obeyed.

Ten minutes later he was back in the doorway.

“Katniss?”

“What,” she snapped.

Her room was destroyed, she’d emptied every drawer and gone through every shelf and still couldn’t find her glasses.

“Can’t you just put in new contacts?”

“My eyes have strained too much, I won’t be comfortable. And as it is I’m going to have to sit down with them closed for a while just to feel like they’re adjusting right once I get my glasses on.”

“Can I help you look?”

“I want to say no.”

“But you’re going to say yes?”

She nodded, defeated.

“That’s perfect. Here, then.” He came over to her and held out an eyeglass case. I found these in the bathroom cabinet.

She pulled on her glasses and blinked at him. She had forgotten his face was more than a blurry lump and found his averted gaze and chewing on his lip an excellent first thing to see.

“I wasn’t snooping, I promise. It’s just… I had to use the restroom and I thought, since you’ve been in here forever, maybe you’d left your glasses with your contact stuff.”

“That would seem reasonable, yes. But I saw them when I packed for a hiking trip. I thought for sure I had left them in my room after my last trip over Juno Point.”

“You climb mountains?” He was impressed, eyes lit like a little boy hearing someone had just come from Disneyland.

She shrugged.

“It’s not rock climbing. It’s just really steep hiking. Most of the time.”

She blinked some more, and then looked around her room and appreciated the mess she’d made for the first time. But at least she could see it.

“Thank you.”

She gave him a tight lipped smile, mostly because she was uncomfortable with having to thank him for helping her out yet again.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you go sit on the couch, rest your eyes like you were saying, ‘cause I can see they do still bother you, and I’ll make those cookies.”

Katniss scoffed, but Peeta threw his hands up.

“No, no. If you were actually listening on the way over here, baking is in my blood. And while I wasn’t snooping in your bathroom, I did snoop in your kitchen and I think I can make it happen.”

She narrowed her eyes. The idea of a guy baking for her seemed ridiculous and like he was trying too hard.

But before she could say no, he got behind her and with his hands on her arms, gently shuffled her out to the living room sofa and left her there.

Half an hour later, after having eyes closed and ears picking up the easy movements and happy humming from the kitchen, as well as the heavenly smell of cookies wafting out from there, she realized that baking cookies was not in any way ‘trying too hard’ for Peeta.

As soon as she heard the sound of the oven door opening and a metal tray being pulled out, she opened her eyes and padded to the kitchen doorway as quietly as possible. The sink was full with soaking bowls and mixing utensils, and there was a cooling rack she didn’t even know she had now full of perfectly round sugar cookies.

Peeta was facing away, piling more dough onto a second cookie tray. Still silent as a hunter, she reached down to steal one of the cooling cookies.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, without turning around.

Her hand hesitated. She was sure she hadn’t made a sound. But when he turned around, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the counter on his hip, the teasing grin told her there was no question he’d known.

“It’s called the baker’s sense,” he laughed. “It supernaturally heightens for the first five minutes any tray of cookies or new loaf of bread comes out of the oven. A sort of evolutionary mechanism whereby we detect predators trying to steal our baked goods when they’re at their most irresistible.”

Katniss saw his eyes go from hers, down to her still outstretched hand, to the cookies and back again. He licked his lips. She could tell he knew he wouldn’t be fast enough to stop her.

She snatched one and shoved the whole thing in. She meant to munch on it with an open mouth to taunt him, but it was so good, and so hot, she brought a hand up to cover her mouth instead.

“Oh my gosh, Peeta,” she said over her chewing. “That’s delicious!”

He grinned, pleased.

She reached out for another one, but he came over and smacked her hand out of the way.

“Just stop. They’re not even decorated yet.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“Decorated?”

The two times a year Katniss baked cookies, it was from a roll of pre-made refrigerated dough. She certainly didn’t decorate them. She leaned to the side and saw on the counter behind him several bowls of frosting, colored.

“How the hell did you manage to do all that while I was just laying on the couch? That would take me all day.”

“You climb mountains. I make cookies. We all have our little niches.” He swallowed and his eyes fixed on her mouth. “You… have some crumb… Just there.”

He lifted his hand to wipe it away but hesitated, clearly nervous.

Katniss ran the back of her hand across her mouth.

“Better?”

“Less tempting,” he said distantly, then cleared his throat and turned back to loading the new cookie tray. Over his shoulder he said, “I’ve got two more batches after this, and then we could go out for that pizza even though it’s a bit early. If that’s okay with you, I mean. But it would give us time so when we come back we can decorate and let the frosting set during the first movie.”

“First movie?”

“Well, I figure I took notes for you, and then made sure you got home safely, and-”

“Not quite.”

Katniss pawed at the cut on her forehead, which still stung. She should probably put something on it.

Peeta frowned, “Well, that wasn’t my fault, that was yours. But I got you home mostly safe. Aside from maybe that strange guy I didn’t keep from putting his hands on you out on the sidewalk right before he snapped at you like a sulking little boy.”

It was clear he was penitent and a little ashamed.

“Peeta,” Katniss said, heart melting. She went over to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You walked me home, thank you. And I’d be mad too if you’d spent a whole semester ignoring me like apparently I did you.” She frowned and made a hmm. “I still can’t figure out how I missed you, though. The only person I remember sitting behind me was that stupid frat boy with neon orange hair that always smelled like-”

Katniss covered her mouth.

“That wasn’t you.”

Peeta ducked his head, and leaned back on the counter, gripping its edge.

“That wasn’t you,” she repeated.

He wouldn’t look up so she smacked him across the chest and started laughing. “Peeta, tell me that wasn’t you.”

He scratched the back of his neck and stared at the floor. The edge of a half-embarrassed, half-amused smile played on his lips.

“Yeah, so… I might have tried to join a frat during rush week? It was permanent hair dye, part of initiation. That’s why I was always wearing a hat.”

“I saw a few guys with that hair last year. But you call that a hat? It was a freakin’ beaver.”

“It was a bomber’s hat, actually.”

“It was lined with beaver fur. I should know, I’ve hunted them.”

“You hunt?”

Katniss shook her head, amazed.

“Focus. That thing looked ridiculous. And it didn’t hide that ridiculous hair, you know. It poked out around the edges and only made you look like you had a radio active beaver mounting your skull.”

Peeta snorted, “What an image.”

Katniss laughed. “Yeah, sorry. My family is… well, I’m from the country, so I probably am not the most… ladylike.”

“No,” Peeta shook his head. “No, but I like you just the way you are.”

“And the smell?”

The person sitting behind her had smelled of patchouli all year. Peeta didn’t strike her as a pothead.

“My roommate last semester was… very much into the herb. And even though he was only supposed to smoke outside or in his room, he lit up everywhere when I wasn’t there. It infected all my clothes, and nearly lost me my wrestling scholarship because coach was convinced I was breaking the university drug policy. He had me doing urine tests every week. I finally had to move out. But yes, I was coated in that awful smelling patchouli most of the semester just to cover it.”

“I saw you wrestle,” Katniss said, looking down at her nails and digging non-existent dirt out from under them.

“You did?”

When she looked back, Peeta’s face had lit up.

She nodded and blushed. She’d gone to several matches earlier in the semester, once she’d found out the boy she sat next to and had a crush on would be grappling on a mat in a very tight fitting wrestlers uniform. But the season was over too early, just over a month ago.

“You’re not with that fraternity, are you?” Katniss found them inherently evil. Her only exposure thus far had been to leering guys inclined to get drunk and migrate from lecherous thoughts to wandering hands.

“No way, it turned out to be a disaster. I only tried initially anyway because my roommate, that same one, wanted to join and was too afraid to do it alone. I don’t know about the other fraternities, but that one was full of jerks. I ended up in a fight with their fearless leader and was thankfully excommunicated. Or not admitted. Whatever it is they call it.” He added, “I saw you during one of our initiation activities, though. We were out in the oval and you were walking by with Johanna and some other girl.”

“And you remember that?”

“Oh, I won’t ever forget it. You looked like something from a REI catalog. Green hiking pants, red plaid shirt, your hair braided and held up through the back of your baseball cap. And laughing. You’re so serious most of the time around me, but I know you can laugh, because I saw you with your girlfriends doing exactly that. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was one of the guys you were laughing at. We were being made to do push-ups in kiddie pools filled with orange coolaid wearing only our whitey-tighties.”

“I remember that!” Katniss grinned, and then grew suddenly shy. She retreated back over to the cooling rack.

“What?”

“Yeah, so nothing,” she said quietly.

“No, what? Tell me.”

“I… Well we definitely noticed you. Quite a lot of you, as a matter of fact.”

“Really,” he asked, very interested and very teasing. “Please explain.”

“Bake your cookies, Peeta.” She snatched a cookie and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t protest, so she took a bite and walked out of the kitchen. Her voice carried back, “And when you’re done, let’s go out and get that pizza. I’m starving. And so you know, I take my pizza with quite a lot of pepperoni.”

Peeta groaned and turned back to his baking.

“She’s going to kill me,” he muttered to the dough.


End file.
